Natasha
by DebC75
Summary: Natalie loses her memory and becomes someone else
1. Chapter 1

Natasha   
by Fleurette 

Part I 

Natalie Lambert stepped out of the broken down rental car and started to walk. She was only a couple of blocks from the hotel and figured she could get there just as easily on foot as she could have in the car. She *wasn't* too thrilled with the idea, but it was the best she could come up with this late at night. Of course, it didn't help matters that the airlines had lost her luggage somewhere between Toronto and Montreal. 

_I should have taken the bus,_ she thought as she crossed the street and rounded the corner. She was so wrapped up in her problems that she didn't see the dark figure behind her or realize what was about to happen. 

Startled, Nat yanked hard on the purse the man was trying to wrench from her hands. "Help!" she called out, despite the fact that it was quite late and the street was deserted except for her and the mugger. 

"Help yourself, lady," the mugger sneered as he pushed her away, slamming her hard against the wall. 

Nat felt her head striking the concrete behind her and heard the 'whack' it made upon impact. Then her world promptly went black.   
  


* * *

(Three weeks later) 

Nick watched as the last passenger walked past him to the luggage claim. None of them had been Natalie Lambert. Puzzled, he went to the information desk and asked the lady there if Natalie had been on the flight. 

"Just one moment, sir," The lady said with a smile. She went to check the flight register and came back without her smile. "I'm sorry, sir, but there was no one by that name on this flight. Maybe you have the wrong airline?" 

"I don't think so," Nick told her, frowning. He went back to the waiting area and took a seat in the nearest chair. _She's just late, that's all. She'll come through that door any minute now..._ he told himself. Or... at least, he hoped so. The sun was about to come up and he wanted desperately to find Natalie and be home before it did.   
  


* * *

After calling Nat's house every ten minutes for an entire day, Nick was convinced that something was very wrong. Unsure of what to do, he called the coroner's office and the hospital. No one had seen her, and she hadn't called in to work. But what was even more interesting, the hospital said they'd received a phone call from the people in charge of the medical convention Natalie was supposed to have attended. She hadn't shown up at her hotel or to the convention. They'd called to find out why she hadn't canceled her speech. 

Nick didn't know what else to do. So he did what he always did... he went to the Raven... naturally, LaCroix would know what to do....   



	2. Chapter 2

  
Part II 

(Montreal, still three weeks later) 

Janette DuCharme stood puzzling at the sight before her. Natalie Lambert, or a very good likeness, was applying for the waitress position Janette needed filled. Only... she wasn't dressed like Dr. Lambert or *acting* like her, for that matter. This Natalie had pulled her reddish mane up in a pony tail that sat precariously high on her head. It was tied with a lacy black scrunchy that matched her black and white lace outfit-- an outfit that was much more provocative than anything Janette had ever imagined Natalie would wear. And if all this weren't enough, the woman before didn't seem to recognize Janette at all. 

"What did you say your name was again?" Janette asked the un-Natalie. 

"Natasha... but I prefer to be called Tasha, if that's all right with you," answered the woman. She blew a bubble with the bubblegum she'd been snapping and popped it loudly. Janette stifled a wince. 

"Your *last* name," she emphasized. 

"Oh, that! I don't have one." 

"You don't have one?" Janette echoed. 

Natasha shook her head. "Three weeks again I was found wandering the streets by a policeman. He took me to a homeless shelter. I don't remember much before that." 

"And they gave you a name at the shelter?" Janette asked. She was beginning to understand. 

Natasha shook her head again. "No... *that* was the only thing I *do* remember. Being called 'Nat.' At the shelter, they flung some names at me that began with 'Nat' and 'Natasha' sounded right somehow." 

"And you don't want to find out who you really are?" Janette asked. 

Natasha once again shook her head. "Naw! I'm having too much fun as me!"   
  


Janette realized that it would be inviting trouble to let "Natasha" walk out of there, so she hired her on the spot. Then she gave Natasha an apartment above the club. 

"You start tomorrow," Janette told Natasha before showing her the apartment...   
  



	3. Chapter 3

Part III 

Nick plopped down onto the barstool dejectedly. LaCroix, who had been talking to the bartender, approached him wearing an openly amused look on his face. "Still no word on the Good Doctor, Nicholas?" he asked. 

"No," mumbled Nick. LaCroix signaled to the bartender to serve Nick. Nick began to protest against the proffered drink, but suddenly decided that LaCroix was right; he *needed* a drink. Downing the blood and signaling for a refill, Nick said to LaCroix, "I wish I knew what to do. There just isn't any sign of her here or in Montreal." 

"Montreal? You didn't tell me she went to Montreal?" 

"Was that important?" 

LaCroix never hesitated in saying, "Of course not, Nicholas. I was merely curious that you never mentioned it before." 

Nick's eyes narrowed. LaCroix wouldn't have taken *any* interest in the fact that Natalie had gone to Montreal unless he had a reason. Paranoia set it and Nick began seeing visions of a plot by LaCroix to keep Natalie from finding his cure. Could it be possible that LaCroix had all ready known Natalie had been in Montreal? Could he be responsible for Nat's disappearance? 

"LaCroix, do you know anyone in Montreal? Anyone who could have seen her?" Nick asked, trying to sound innocent and unsuspicious. 

"No," the ancient vampire replied smoothly, but he also avoided Nick's eyes as they sought to make contact with his own. 

Nick took that to mean that he did. "What have you done to Natalie?" Nick blurted out angrily. 

LaCroix looked shocked. "I? Nothing, Nicholas. You know perfectly well that I have tried to keep my distance from the Good Doctor. And besides... what reason would I have to harm her?" 

"You know perfectly well what reason, LaCroix!" Nick almost shouted. "Me! You would easily kill her to keep me at your side for another 800 years!" 

They argued for a few more minutes before LaCroix forced Nick to leave the Raven. 

When Nick had gone, LaCroix slipped back to his office. Upon the desk lay a letter from Janette. Janette was in Montreal. LaCroix thought now would be a good time to visit her there...   
  



	4. Chapter 4

  
Part IV 

Janette greeted LaCroix with a hug. "LaCroix! How good to see you again! This is quite unexpected." 

"Yes... I know." LaCroix told her, looking around at the club. "Very nice establishment you have here, my dear," he commented. 

Janette nearly glowed under his compliment. "It's hardly the Raven, but I've come to care for it just the same." She began to lead him back to her office where they could talk in private. 

"Does Nicolas know you're here?" she asked. 

"No," LaCroix replied. "As you wished, I have not yet told Nicholas that you are here. Doubtless he would have come himself had he known." 

Something in LaCroix's voice struck Janette as odd and she eyed him quizzically. "What do you mean, LaCroix?" 

"Actually... that's the reason I'm here, my dear." he told her as she shut the office door behind them. "I came to speak to you about--" 

Just then the door opened and a waitress entered bearing a bottle of bloodwine and two crystal goblets. It was Natasha. LaCroix stared at her, dumbfounded, while she filled both goblets and set the bottle upon Janette's desk. Natasha then handed one of the goblets to LaCroix, her hand brushing his lightly when he took it. Her face split into a knowing smile as the brief contact ended. Before LaCroix could speak to her, Natasha was gone, closing the door behind her. 

"Natalie?" His voice came as a shocked whisper. Janette nodded sadly. "But how?" "I don't know," said Janette. "She has amnesia, LaCroix. She doesn't know that she's Natalie Lambert." 

"Who is she, then?" 

"Here she is Natasha. No last name, no past life, and no ambitions beyond barmaid. It's a sad thing, really," Janette studied him closely. "She's the reason you're here, isn't she?" 

LaCroix nodded. "She's been missing for over three weeks now and Nicholas is beside himself. When he told me she'd disappeared in Montreal, I decided to pop in and see what I could do to locate her. I had no idea it would be this easy." 

Janette sighed. "It might not be as easy as you think, LaCroix. Natasha is *not* Natalie." 

"What do you mean?" 

Janette suddenly smiled a sly smile. "Why don't you hang around and find out..."   
  


* * *

After closing the door on her employer and the strange vampire, Natasha hurried off in the direction of the elevator. 

"Hey, Tash! Where you off to?" One of the other waitresses asked as she sped by her. 

Tasha halted long enough to answer the girl. "Mistress DuCharme has a gentleman visitor in her office." 

"Yeah, I know... Mr. LaCroix." 

"You know him, Jasmine?" Natasha asked. 

Jasmine smiled, showing off the tiny buds of her fangs. She shrugged. "When I lived in Toronto he was there. He's got this son who's an absolute *dream*... a little weird, but a definite stud-muffin." 

Natasha made a face. Nothing could possibly be as drop-dead gorgeous as the man with Mistress Janette. "Anyway," she said, ignoring Jasmine comments about Nick, "I think I like him. I want to make sure he notices me." She hurried off towards the elevator. 

Jasmine's eyes widened in an "oh, no" expression. The last time Natasha said something like *that* she'd emerged from the elevator wearing... the "oh, no" expression on Jasmine's face changed to an "ohmigod" expression...   
  



	5. Chapter 5

Part V 

Natasha exited the elevator in a red and black, leathery state of what can only be described as undress. The outfit consisted of a red leather bustier, a black leather skirt that was close to not even big enough to be called a "mini-skirt," black fish net stockings, and a pair of red high heels that made her legs look a mile long. Everything was tight, form-hugging, and only half-covered her body. 

When Janette left the office with LaCroix, she noticed Natasha and called her over to them. Approaching them, Natasha made a point to stand close to LaCroix, allowing him a close view of her... ah, endowments. She flirted with him for a minute or two before turning to her employer. "Yes, Mistress DuCharme?" she asked, faking innocence. 

"What... happened to the clothes you were wearing earlier, Tasha?" Janette asked, trying to sound firm despite the laughter that clung to her lips. 

"Oh... one of the customers spilled a drink on them." she lied, and started to turn her attention back to LaCroix. 

"And you've nothing else to wear?" Janette insisted. She was silently laughing at LaCroix's discomfort over Natasha's forward nature. 

"Nope!" Natasha said, smiling cheerfully. "Do you like it?" She asked LaCroix, pressing closer to him. 

Taken by surprise, LaCroix fumbled only a second before saying, "It's a very charming ensemble, my dear." 

Her flirtatious smile widening, Natasha flitted off to wait on her tables. For the rest of the night, she made it a habit to flirt with LaCroix when ever he was in sight.   
  


"Do you see what I mean about her?" Janette asked LaCroix as they watched her moving seductively among the patrons. "She's very... handy... with her body, LaCroix. I worry sometimes about her." 

"I see..." LaCroix said, his voice trailing off when he saw her throw herself flirtatiously at another vampire. "Tell me more about Natasha, Janette." He commanded her...   
  


* * *

LaCroix followed Natasha up to the room Janette had chosen for him. It was a nice room, most acceptable to him and accommodating of his needs. He was tiring rapidly from his journey and from the night's events. After seeing Natasha out the door, he went into the bedroom to lie down...   
  


* * *

LaCroix awoke to the sound of water running in the shower. Wondering what it could be, he rose from the bed and walked over to the bathroom door. Opening it, he was surprised to see the silhouette of a woman behind the shower curtain. 

Just then, the curtain drew up and he saw who it was...   
  


Natasha stood before him in the shower, her most intimate body parts covered only by the bubbles from the body wash she was using. Smiling up at him, she purposely 'dropped' her body poof onto the floor. 

LaCroix watched in a mixture of astonishment and instant desire as Natasha made a show of seductively retrieving the fallen poof. His eyes traveled her body, following the bubbles as they slid downwards towards her toes... 

"Hi!" Natasha greeted him cheerfully. "I hope you don't mind me using your shower. Mine's broken!" She met his enraptured gaze and smiled sexily. "Of course, you don't mind. I can see that. Then... maybe you wouldn't mind..." she held out the poof to him. "... doing my back?" 

LaCroix fell for the innocent look in her eyes, and stepped forward to take the proffered poof. Instantly, Natasha's arms wrapped around his, drawing his full-clothed body to her naked one. Once he was in her arms, Natasha surprised him further with a deep, wet kiss. 

When she kissed him, however, LaCroix seemingly awoke from whatever daze he was in to see what was going on. Natasha was trying to seduce him! _And doing a very good job of it.. _he mused as he pushed her away. 

She looked at him, a sad, confused look on her face. "Don't you like me?" She asked. 

"Yes, I like you, my dear. It's just that I--" he was stopped short when she kissed him again, joyfully. LaCroix pushed her away a little less gently this time. "Control yourself, girl!" He nearly snapped at her. 

"But... but I--" 

"No buts. You weren't invited into this apartment, and you don't need to be here," LaCroix told her. "Please leave...now!" 

LaCroix turned away from her and returned to his. After she left, however, his mind began to replay the scene from the shower. He could still smell the scent of the body wash-- some tropical mango scent-- on his clothes after her embrace. Mango was not a smell LaCroix had ever particularly cared for up til now, but he suddenly found himself wondering what her skin would have smelled like when perfumed in that body wash. How... interesting... it would have been to have obliged her little whim. No! LaCroix's more logical half told himself. This isn't just any piece of skirt. It's Natalie Lambert; Nicholas's Natalie. 

And yet, LaCroix found himself replying to his logic... Natasha is *not* Natalie, in the same sense that she is. And Natasha is a very desirable woman...   
  



	6. Chapter 6

Part VI 

Janette burst into a fit of laughter when LaCroix finished telling her about his unexpected visit the night before. 

"It's *not* funny, Janette," snapped LaCroix. 

"But it *is,*" giggled Janette. At his murderous glare, however, she sobered a bit. "I'm sorry, you're right. This is a terribly serious situation. We should be discussing it rationally." 

"I quite agree, my dear. I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me... regarding Natasha." 

"Such as...?" 

"Such as, why is she like this, when Natalie Lambert was such an intelligent woman?" LaCroix asked. 

"I don't know," Janette said sadly. "I've been wondering myself what made her this way." She walked over to her desk and fished a book out of a drawer. It was a book on pop psychology. She handed it to LaCroix. "I bought it after Natasha came to me. I was wondering... " she flipped to a section on hypnosis and repressed memories. "Do you think it would be possible to help her remember, LaCroix. I know she, or Natalie rather, is a Resistor, but you could get around that, couldn't you?" 

LaCroix considered her suggestion while he read the section she'd pointed out to him. He didn't, as general rule, believe in the notions of pop culture. Things like that he tended to scorn. In this case, however, Janette was correct. "It's worth a try," LaCroix told her. "But I need more time with her. Were I too restore all her memories at once, it could seriously damage her mind." 

Janette agreed to let LaCroix spend time with Natasha, though inwardly she worried that LaCroix would not be able to resist the gifts Natasha seemed determined to give him.   
  


They were about to leave the office and go in seach of Natasha, when Jasmine knocked gently on the door and entered. 

"Jasmine..." Janette smiled. "You know LaCroix, don't you?" 

Jasmine smiled slightly. "We met at the Raven a few times." She cleared her throat nervously. "I have to speak to you about Natasha." 

"What about Tasha? Is something the matter with her?" Janette asked. 

"Well, she's not coming to work tonight," Jasmine replied. 

"Why not?" LaCroix and Janette asked at the same time. 

"Ummm... well, it has to with what happened last night after she showed you to your rooms, Mr. LaCroix. She says she made a fool of herself in front of you and can't bear to be around you now. She thinks you hate her." 

Janette and LaCroix exchanged looks of surprise. 

LaCroix took Jasmine by the arm, saying, "Why don't you take me to her and we'll straighten this out?" 

"You're *not* angry with her?" Jasmine asked incredulously. 

LaCroix shook his head. "I was at the time, but no longer. Come now... let us go."   
  


* * *

"We share this apartment," Jasmine told LaCroix as she opened the door and stepped inside. He followed her. "Janette wanted someone to watch out for Natasha until her memory came back." 

LaCroix looked around the apartment. It was small and fairly cozy-- nothing he would have expected of a vampire, even one as young as Jasmine. 

"Jas! Is that you?" Natasha's voice came from the hallway. 

"Yeah, Tash!" Jasmine called out. "There's a visitor here for you!"   
  


Natasha emerged from the hallway, scrubbing her wet hair with a towel. She was wearing a pair of blue, baggy sweats and a cut off T-shirt. Her feet were bare. LaCroix thought she looked sexier now than she had before. 

Natasha froze when she saw him. Her eyes dropped to the ground as she refused to make eye contact with him. "I'm sorry for last night," she mumbled. 

"There is no need to apologize, my dear," LaCroix told. "I'm not angry with you. I was merely taken by surprise." 

"You're not mad!?" Natasha exclaimed. Neither of them had noticed that Jasmine had slipped out the door, closing it behind her. 

"No, I am not. In fact, nothing would please me more than to spend this evening getting to know you, my dear," LaCroix said, his voice sensuously low. "What were your plans for this evening?" 

"I... I was going to read," she stammered, holding a book out to him. LaCroix took it gently from her hands. 

"Ahhh! 'Wuthering Heights!' One of my favorites," he said, smiling at her. He led her over to the small couch and they sat. "You wouldn't mind if I read to you for awhile?" LaCroix asked, surprising Natasha completely. 

"No... I don't mind. It might be fun," was her replied.   
  


LaCroix began to read. Natasha was soon snuggled close to him, listening intently to his words, a dreamy look on her face. LaCroix wondered if Nicholas had ever done something like this with Natalie. It was difficult for him to keep in mind that he was doing this so he could bring Natalie back to Nicholas safely. 

After reading for awhile, LaCroix set the book aside. "Tell me, my dear, why do you like this book?" 

"I... I don't know. I just remember having read it once... more than once, many times... and liking it. It's romantic," said Natasha. 

"It is indeed," LaCroix agreed. "You don't remember when you read it?" He queried. 

Natasha shook her head. "No... it must have been from my past.... from before I came here, but I can't remember when that was." 

LaCroix was surprised to see tears in Natasha's eyes. "Are you all right, Natasha?" he asked. 

Swallowing down a sob, Natasha nodded. "I'm fine... I just don't like to talk about... back then. It hurts me to try and remember." 

LaCroix held her to him as she began to cry harder. Cradling her in his arms, he soothed her as her emotions came tumbling out...   
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Part VII 

Natasha slept in LaCroix's arms as they snuggled on the couch. LaCroix had fallen asleep as well. He was sleeping in seeming peace. Natasha, however, was not. As she slept, the nightmare she'd relived a million times before played through her mind.   
  


***Dream Sequence*** 

_She was running away from the dark stranger who persued her. She turned, running in slow motion into a blind alley. A dead end!_

_The stranger reached for her, and she screamed._

_From the shadows came a voice-- familiar, yet foreign at same time. It was calling out to her in the darkness, searching for her. The voice belonged to someone she used to know, someone she *should* know still. He called her "Nat."_   
  


***End Dream Sequence*** 

Natasha awoke, screaming in the darkness. She struggled against the arms that held her tightly-- LaCroix's arms. He awoke at the sound of her screams and tried to calm her. 

"Nata--" he almost called her 'Natalie.' Holding her more gently this time, he said, "Natasha... hush, child. I'm here... nothing will hurt you." 

"M-make it stop! Make the dream stop!" she cried, her voice muffled against his chest. 

LaCroix raised her to look at her face. "Tell me about this dream, my dear," he asked gently. 

"No..." she mewed softly, denying him. 

LaCroix thought about "persuading" her to tell him, but decided against it when he saw how upset she was. Instead, he allowed her to snuggle into his arms and cry until her eyes held no more tears. 

He found himself wanting to protect her from the nightmares... the memories which haunted her dreams, yet eluded her conscious mind. Yet, to do so would mean he'd have to prevent her from ever regaining her memory. Then Natalie Lambert would be no more... 

The thought troubled LaCroix. Could he take Natalie away from Nicholas and keep Natasha for himself? Nicholas, he knew, would never forgive him. Would he be able to forgive himself?   
  



	8. Chapter 8

  
Part VIII 

Rock, Janette's bartender, watched as Natasha entered the club with LaCroix. She seemed pale to him, and he knew she hadn't slept well that night. The nightmares again, he guessed. 

Rock's eyes narrowed as he watched LaCroix lead her to a table and pull out a chair for her to sit. Rock wasn't thrilled to see Natasha with such an older vampire. He liked her, and didn't want to see her get hurt... or killed.   
  


Rock forced a smile as Jasmine sauntered up to him and gave him LaCroix's order. "And Tasha wants one of those blue things," said Jasmine. Rock made a blue drink that had no name. When a customer asked what it was called, he would respond by asking them for their name. Then he would tell that the drink had that same name. Natasha loved them, and always had one before work. 

As he mixed Natasha's drink, he turned inquiring eyes to Jasmine. "Hey, Jas... what's up with Tasha and 'his lordship,' anyway?" he asked. 

"Jealous?" Jasmine asked playfully. She knew Rock often regretted having told Natasha that they could only have a platonic friendship. "You *had* your chance, you know." When Rock began to frown, she stopped teasing. "I'm sorry, Rock. I didn't mean to say that... honest." She smiled sympathetically at him. "Tasha's insane over LaCroix. I know how it sounds... but she's really smitten with him." 

'What are *his* intentions?" Rock asked as he placed Tasha's drink on a tray and began pouring LaCroix's "house special." 

Jasmine shrugged. "Who knows? I gave up trying to figure out the older ones. They're impossible!" 

Rock had to smile at that, if only a little. Jasmine herself was an "older one" compared to him. "Watch out for her, will you, Jas? I don't trust him," begged Rock as Jasmine took the tray and started to saunter of in the direction of Natasha and LaCroix. 

Jasmine merely smiled by at Rock, a knowing look on her face.   
  


* * *

Rock's fears seemed unfounded, however. Or so Jasmine thought. A week after she and Rock had discussed Natasha and LaCroix, Jasmine found herself styling Natasha's hair in preparation for her first real date with LaCroix. He was taking her dancing, and Natasha was nervous.   
  


"Jas..." she asked as Jasmine pinned the last strand of hair into place atop her head, "why doesn't LaCroix find me attractive?" 

Jasmine was flabbergasted. Could it be possible that Natasha didn't see the way the ancient vampire looked at her? Or the way he acted when she was near? "What do you mean, Tash?" 

"Well... it sounds silly... but... when we're in public, he's the most charming man. He's sweet and attentive, but when we're alone..." Her voice trailed off. After a long silence, Natasha continued. "Don't get me wrong, Jas... I love being with him. He treats me like real lady, but I *want* more than that. I *want* him. But he won't even so much as kiss me." She looked close to tears. "I try so hard to make him notice me, Jas, but nothing I do has any effect on him. Why? Why am I not attractive to him?" 

"Oh, Tasha!" Jasmine cried out, hugging her roommate. "He finds you attractive, I know he does." 

"How do you now?" Natasha looked so innocent at that it amazed Jasmine and she laughed. 

"Tasha, you're so silly!" Jasmine told her, giggling. "Everyone knows! It's that obvious!" 

"Then... why doesn't he show it?" Natasha looked at Jasmine with innocent confusion. "He always turns me down when I try to be with him. I just don't know what else to do!" 

"Oh, Tasha... you don't have to try so hard. Mr. LaCroix would have to be dead not notice you... but maybe he's not interested in just your body?" 

"What else is there?" 

"You're mind. Tash, LaCroix's not the type of man who takes up with any floozy on the streets. He's very selective." 

"Then why did he chose me? I'm not smart." 

"He seems to think so, or he wouldn't be with you." Jasmine pointed out. "You're just nervous. that's all. Let's have a look in the mirror!"   
  


Jasmine led Natasha to the full-length mirror to show her the full effect. Natasha studied the image before her. In the long, black evening gown Janette had loaned her, she looked like a different woman. It was a simple dress, but stylish, with a slit up the side to show off her legs. Jasmine had twisted her hair into so complicated design that Natasha was sure she never be able to get out, but she loved it. 

"I look like Cinderella," said Natasha. She continued to stare into the mirror. It should have been impossible, but the eyes that stared back at her looked different, as if they were not her own. Natasha shrugged off the weird feeling, chalking it up to jitters. 

"And you're ready for the ball," said Jasmine.   
  


* * *

"Are you ready to leave now, my dear?" LaCroix asked of the woman in his arms. They'd been dancing all evening and although he did not want it end, he was growing tired and hungry. 

Natasha began to pout. "One more song," she begged. "Please!" 

LaCroix gazed down into her begging eyes and found he couldn't deny her one last dance. "For you, ma petite, one last dance." 

They moved together in a gentle, swaying motion. Natasha felt so light in his embrace, like a feather. His arms tightened around her, pressing her body close to his own. Without realizing what was happening, his head tilted slowly toward hers. Her lips were so inviting, and the temptation to kiss her was strong. 

LaCroix almost heaved a sigh of relief when the song ended. He released Natasha and, taking her hand, he walked back to their table to retrieve her wrap. As they left the table and headed for the door, a man approached them. 

"Excuse me, " he said, holding out a photograph, "Would you care to have a keepsake? Something to treasure?" 

The photo showed them in each other's arms, their lips scant centimeters apart. Natasha was glowing with a happiness and desire that LaCroix had never thought possible. Looking at Natasha as she fingered the photograph longingly, LaCroix turned to the photographer and asked, "How much?" 

"I usually charge twenty, but... " he, too, cast a glance at Natasha's joyful expression. "For your lady, I'll make it ten." 

Pulling out his wallet, LaCroix paid for the photograph, then he and Natasha headed for his car. 

* * *

_This is a mistake, _LaCroix thought as he sat with Natasha in his rooms. She was still staring at the photograph, chatting happily about how much fun she had that night._ I shouldn't be here with her. She belongs to Nicholas._ Just then, Natasha turned to him with open worship in her eyes. 

Throwing her arms around him, she said, "I had the most wonderful time! Thank you, Mr. LaCroix!" 

Mr. LaCroix? Was that all he was to her? "You may call me 'Lucien,' if you'd like, ma petite," he told her. 

"Lucien..." she murmured, testing the name on her tongue. "I... I love you, Lucien..." she whispered softly, giving him a tentative kiss on the cheek. Then she snuggled into his embrace, leaving him at a loss for words. 

This was definitely wrong, his head told him. He was not supposed to be romancing her, he was supposed to be helping her. But his heart told him otherwise. It wouldn't hurt if he indulged a little... so long as no one got hurt. And providing Nicholas never knew... 

LaCroix rose from his place beside her on the sofa, excusing himself for a drink. Turning his back to her, he poured a glass of bloodwine, filling it to the top. He couldn't remember feeling this confused. Not even with Fleur had it hurt so bad to love. 

Lifting the glass to his lips, LaCroix was startled when he felt her arms around his midsection. Setting the glass down, he turned to face her. There she was, looking up at him with desire in her eyes. "Love me..." whispered Natasha as she took the initiative to kiss his lips passionately. 

LaCroix's arms wrapped around her tightly as he returned the kiss hungrily. He felt his control slipping as she led him down a path of desire. Then he felt his fangs descend...   
  



	9. Chapter 9

Part IX 

"What could you possibly have been thinking?" Janette exploded. 

Shortly after the sun had begun to set, LaCroix had gone to Janette, telling her about the previous night's... interesting turn of events. She was not very pleased. 

"I warned you about getting too attached to her," Janette said, a smug, I-Told-You-So tone in her voice. "Do you even realize what you've done? Nicolas will never forgive either of us!" 

"He doesn't have to know about it, ma cherie," LaCroix soothed. This elicited another explosion from Janette. 

"What do you mean, he doesn't have to know? How are we supposed to hide from him the fact that his mortal girl friend has become *your* lover?" 

LaCroix sighed. "I can hypnotize her to bring her memories back. Then everything will be fine." 

Janette eyed him doubtfully. "We've discussed this before, but you haven't done a thing so far," she accused. 

Taking a deep breath, LaCroix said, "I saw something in her blood when I tasted her... something I never expected to see." The seriousness in his tone held Janette in check, and she waited for him to continue. "I saw... no, *felt*... Natalie Lambert in Natasha's blood." 

"They're the *same* person!" Janette shouted at him. 

"No, they're not... technically. From what I could tell, the person we call Natasha comes from Natalie's subconscious. Now, it is Natalie, as we knew her, who is in the subconscious. I felt her *watching* me, Janette. I believe that she *knows* what Natasha has been doing here. What is more, I got the feeling she's waiting to see what happens." 

"That's impossible!" 

"Is it? I know it sounds bizarre, but I know what I felt. There were two sets of awareness within her... I was overwhelmed by it," LaCroix told her. 

"What do we do now?" asked Janette. "If what you say is true, how can we hypnotize her? Natalie is resistor." 

"I'm not so sure that Natasha is, as well," LaCroix said. "Since Natasha is the exact opposite of Natalie, she may not be immune to mind control." 

"Then, you'll try it this time?" Janette asked. 

After an uncomfortably long silence, LaCroix nodded, indicating that he would indeed begin their experiment.   
  


* * *

LaCroix faced Natasha, looking deep into her eyes. There was a blank, unreadable expression upon her face. The experiment had been a success-- thus far. He should have felt some sense of accomplishment, but instead he was miserable. He hadn't wanted this to work. 

Now he began speaking to her in the low, resonating voice associated with whammy mode. He asked her to tell him how she lost her memory. In a compliant, hesitating voice, Natasha told the brief tale of a mugger in the dark. Satisfied, LaCroix asked her to tell him about her nightmares. 

It was here that the experiment went bad. Rather than answering the question with the same obedience, Natasha's eyes glazed over, blinking twice. Eye contact broken, LaCroix's hypnotic control over her was shattered, leaving her disoriented. 

When LaCroix was certain that she remembered nothing of what he had done, he resolved to try again soon. Perhaps, rather than demanding that *she* tell him what the problem was, he could just as easily help her to remember her past by planting the memories in her mind? 

After seeing her to her apartment, LaCroix fled to his rooms, isolating himself from everyone. He did not want to do this. He did not wish to give up the woman he was fast falling in love with...   
  


* * *

After LaCroix began his experiment, Natasha's nightmares came more frequently. Often, Jasmine would wake to find her screaming in her sleep, clutching her pillow in a death grip. 

One evening, Jasmine found her huddled in a corner of her bedroom, whimpering in fear. She hadn't gotten any sleep... and wouldn't for many days to come. 

In desperation, Jasmine and Rock went to LaCroix and Janette. Both were worried about Natasha's health and depleting sanity. 

"We want to you stop hurting Tasha," Rock told LaCroix boldly. "She can't handle what you're doing to her." 

LaCroix's eyes narrowed at the insolence in Rock's voice. The whelp was jealous of him, *that* was obvious. However, Rock concern was touching. 

It was Janette who spoke up. "We'd love to ease her pain, mes amis, but we cannot. LaCroix stopped interfering with her mind days ago, when it became clear to us that it was doing more damage than good. I'm afraid... there is nothing we can do to help her." 

"What do you mean, nothing?" Jasmine asked. 

"Just that," answered LaCroix. "Natasha's nightmares are so traumatic for her because her memory is returning. The only thing left for us to do is wait."   



	10. Chapter 10

Part X 

Disaster hung in the air. 

Everyone watched as Natasha struggled to carry a tray laden with glasses over to the bar to be put away. The club was about to open, and although they had tried to keep Natasha from working, she insisted that she was fine. She wasn't, and all were waiting for something to happen. 

It came without much warning, as Natasha was lifting the tray to place it on the bar. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she lost her balance, crumbling to the floor. The tray, heavy with clean glassware, tipped off the edge of the counter and also fell. There was a tinkling sound as the glass shattered around her. 

"Natasha!" Rock shouted, loud in room gone silent in horror. He was first to her side, lifting her from the glass. Setting her down on a clean patch of floor, he turned an accusing glare to LaCroix. "Look what you've done to her!" 

Everyone looked. Her eyes riveted on the fallen woman, Janette could hear LaCroix whisper, "Natasha... what have I done to you?" When she turned to him, however, he was gone.   
  


* * *

LaCroix sat at Natasha's bedside, holding a book in his hand. The emergency room doctor had seen no reason to keep her over night, as none of the cuts were deep or fatal. He had, however, prescribed pills to help her sleep and an ointment for her worst cuts. He had also instructed Natasha to stay in bed for a few days.   
  


LaCroix set the book aside and bent down to kiss her forehead. "I must go now, ma petite. You must rest," he told her. 

"No..." Natasha begged. "Don't go, Lucien... please!" 

LaCroix sighed "I must... besides, I need rest, as well, cherie." 

"Then stay here... with me." She patted the bed beside her. "You could hold me while I sleep." 

Unable to deny her, LaCroix agreed, sliding into bed next to Natasha.   
  


Later, however, Natasha awoke, and, finding LaCroix sound asleep, tiptoed out to the living room to watch television. Turning on the tv, she snuggled into a blanket on the couch and began channel surfing. 

She stopped when she came to a channel that had her picture on it. There was voice speaking in the background, a voice Natasha was certain she should have known. It spoke about a woman named Natalie Lambert, who was a coroner in Toronto. The voice went on to say that Natalie had disappeared in Montreal on her way to a medical convent... almost two months ago. 

The picture was replaced, suddenly, by two men-- one a heavy set black man, the other a blonde-haired man with blue eyes. Both wore concerned expressions on their faces. 

The blonde man spoke into the camera, his voice pleading. "Nat..." he said, "we haven't given up you. There is still hope. I *will* find you, Nat." 

Nat... he called her "Nat." Natasha began screaming hysterically as she realized that the man on tv was the voice room her nightmares.   
  


Both LaCroix and Jasmine were at her side within seconds after her cries reached them, Jasmine slower because of her youth. LaCroix knelt beside her, casting a side glance at Jasmine. "Get Janette!" he ordered as he cradled Natasha in his arms.   
  


* * *

"Absolutely not!" Janette exclaimed. "You are *not* going to bring her across, LaCroix! Nicolas will never forgive us if you do!" 

For once, will you quit worrying about your precious "Nee-co-la," thought LaCroix angrily. He might have said as much, except she was right. Natasha could not be brought across, despite what he had promised. Sighing, he said, "Now, Janette, cherie... you misinterpret my words. I said, *she* wanted to be brought across. Nothing more." 

"You told her that you would! I heard you say it." 

LaCroix nodded. "Yes, you did hear me say that, but I lied," he explained. "It was necessary... to placate her." 

"Then what do you plan on doing about all of this?" Janette demanded to know. 

"This episode has pushed her over the edge. I believe I can fully restore her memory now... but it must be done tonight... now," LaCroix told her. 

Janette studied her former master carefully. "You really love her, don't you?" 

LaCroix nodded once, the only indication he would give her that he did indeed care deeply for Natasha. 

"Why, then, are you doing this?" 

LaCroix fixed her with an unreadable stare. "Why do I do anything? Nicholas... everything I do is for him. I thought you knew that." He turning, exiting the room and returning to Natasha'a apartment.   
  


Sighing, Janette went to gather her employees. If Natalie Lambert were to emerge from this horrible night, they all needed to understand what was happening.   
  


* * *

Natalie awoke in a room that was familiar and different at the same time. There was a dull ache in the back of her head. "Where am I?" she asked aloud. When there was no answer, she rose from the bed and began to look around. As she did, bits and pieces of the last few weeks began returning to her. She had hit her head when the mugger pushed her... and lost her memory. Some things were still fuzzy, but she clearly remembered Janette taking her in off the streets. And... she remembered a name-- Natasha. 

Natalie stood in front of the mirror hanging over her dresser. She felt different somehow. The eyes that stared back at her were foreign to her. Just then, something caught her eye-- a photograph, framed and seated in the center of the dresser. It was a picture of her and LaCroix! Picking up the picture, Natalie studied it, overwhelmed at the emotions that flooded her when she touched it. Her heart began to break... and she didn't know why. 

Natalie put down the photograph, stepping away quickly. It was then that she noticed Janette standing in the doorway. 

"Natalie?" Janette asked. "Are you all right?" 

Nat nodded slowly. She wasn't sure how long Janette had been standing there, watching her. "I-I need a shower," Nat said. She glanced at the closet full of Natasha's clothes-- things she would never wear-- and said, "These clothes... I can't wear them. They're... not me." 

Janette smiled knowingly. She had anticipated this reaction long ago. "I think I can provide you with a few decent outfits, Natalie. The shower is..." Janette pointed, "... over there. When you're done, you'll will find something suitable waiting for you."   
  


Later, when Natalie had showered and changed, she stood in front of the mirror once again, this time, feeling more like herself again. It was then that she noticed the photograph and frame were gone. Janette must have taken it... but why? 

Just then, there came a knock at her open bedroom door. A tall woman, with long blonde hair, entered shyly. It was Jasmine. 

"Hi, Jas," Nat said absently as she combed out her hair. 

"H-hi... you know me?" Jasmine asked incredulously. She had thought Natalie had lost the memory of her life when she was Natasha. LaCroix, however, had only blocked out certain things, such as their romance. 

"Sure, I do. Some things are a bit fuzzy yet, but I'm not totally in the dark." 

Jasmine sighed in relief. "I was worried about you, Ta... uh, Natalie." Jasmine blushed at her blunder. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. 

"No, it's ok, really. You know me better by that name, that's all." Natalie thought for a moment, then asked, "Jas... there was a picture here on the dresser earlier. What happened to it?" 

Jasmine knew Janette had taken it after Natalie went to shower. She was supposed to have done it, except Natalie awoke before Jasmine had expected. "No," she lied. "I didn't know there was a picture." 

"Oh." Nat didn't sound convinced, but she accepted Jasmine's excuse anyway.   
  


* * *

LaCroix rose from his chair when Natalie approached their table. Janette also stood, a smile on her face. "The clothes were to you liking, I hope?" she asked. 

Natalie nodded, returning the smile nervously. She accepted the chair LaCroix held out for her. She found herself comparing his gentleman's manners to Nick's. Nick... he must be worried sick by now. Natalie mention it to the two vampires. 

"I took the liberty of calling him while you were in the shower," said Janette. "He'll be on a private plane out here tomorrow night." 

"Nick owns a private plane!?" Nat burst out. 

"Actually," interjected LaCroix, "*We* own it-- the family jet." 

"Wow," was all Nat could say. 

Changing the subject, LaCroix surprised her by saying, "Nicholas tells us that the man who stole you purse was smart enough to access your atm card. Seeing as he emptied you accounts.." he held out a card, "this is for you." 

It was another ATM card for a bank in Toronto. "I... I can't accept this." 

"Of course you can, ma petite. You have no savings now, so you *must.*" He forced the card into her hand, their skin brushing at the action. 

At his touch, Natalie was once again bombarded with memories, this time too strong to repress. LaCroix's hypnotic barrier was breached and the memory of their intimacies flooded her mind. It took all her strength not to cry out then and there. But she accepted the card. "T-thank you," Nat choked before fleeing back to the apartment.   
  


* * *

Natalie buried her face into the pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. How could this possibly have happened? How had she fallen in *love* with a monster like LaCroix? How? But... she *did* have feelings for him, she'd felt them when their hands touched. 

"Natalie?" Janette's voice came from the door. Nat looked up, wiping the tears from her eyes. Janette glided into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "Can I help somehow?" 

Nat shook her head. "There is... is..." she choked out between sniffles, "nothing you can do." "Would you care to tell me what's wrong?" Janette asked. 

Natalie hesitated. This was *Janette.* The Janette who had plotted time and again to prevent Nick from getting his cure-- to keep him from finding happiness with her. She had no reason to trust Janette. But you *do,* insisted a voice inside her head. Mistress Janette helped us. I trusted her... so can you. It was Natasha, and despite Natalie's wariness, she knew that Janette *could* be trusted. 

"I.. I remember things that I wish I did not remember," Natalie said. 

"Such as..?" Janette asked. 

"LaCroix... " Natalie looked up to meet Janette's gaze. "LaCroix and... myself." She no longer tried to deny that Natasha and Natalie were one and the same. 

Janette was dumbfounded. "I see... and it troubles you, no doubt." 

Nodding, Nat asked, "Did he love...me... her?" There was confusion in her eyes. 

"Yes. He loved Natasha very much. I suspect he has feelings for the real Natalie as well, but... it was not meant to be." 

"If he loved me... then... " Natalie's voice trailed off. 

Janette understood, however. "Because of Nicolas. LaCroix loves Nicolas very much. Their relationship is so fragile, and he would not purposely do anything to jeopardize it now.. when they are closer than they have been in ages." 

Now it was Natalie who was dumbfounded. After a brief silence, she asked, "Tell me... can he *really* be capable of love?" 

Janette studied Natalie, looking for any vestige of Natasha in her eyes. Seeing there a small spark of the free spirit she once knew, Janette smiled. Then, she said, "Lucien LaCroix is not the monster Nicolas makes him out to be. Natasha knew that.. in your heart, Natalie, so do you. But it is you mind that must be convinced. Perhaps, someday..." 

Natalie shook her head. "I don't know if I can say that, Janette. I don't know what I'm feeling right now. My heart feels torn in two." After a pause, Natalie said, "You... you won't tell either of them about this, will you? I kind of want to sort things out on my own for a while." 

Janette smiled. "I understand, Natalie. I won't tell them." 

"Promise...?" 

Laughing, Janette promised, "I'll take it my grave."   


(Continued in "Proposal")   



End file.
